


Always

by Marasa



Category: Deadly Class (Comics), Deadly Class (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling, Fluff, Friendship, Hair Dye, Multi, Spring Break, The Rat Pack, haircut, soft, thunderstorm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 21:32:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18106880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marasa/pseuds/Marasa
Summary: Three days into spring break, the Rats find themselves locked in the first floor bathroom.





	Always

Three days into spring break, the Rats find themselves locked in the first floor bathroom.

They smell of bleach and body odor. A majority of them are shirtless. A distant groan of thunder sounds just as Petra threads a hand through Marcus’ overgrown curls. 

“I think I’m going to shave it,” Petra says. “All of it.”

She fists a hand at the crown of his head. Marcus’ eyes flutter as she pulls lightly.

“Give him a mohawk so we match,” Billy says.

“Yeah, ‘cause conformity is totally my style-  _ ah!” _

The boys snicker as Petra yanks Marcus’ head back an inch. They smirk at each other in the reflection of the mirror ahead of them. 

Billy is in the midst of bleaching his hair. The usual green stripe down the center of his head looks to be covered in toothpaste smelling of harsh chemicals.

“It burns,” Billy whines, bringing up his fingers like claws but refusing to let himself itch. “Why does it always burn?”

“That’s how you know it’s working,” Lex says.

He’s already done dying his hair. It’s not a horribly complicated job; just the tips and a little of the roots. There are no spikes atop his head but a dry and damaged wave of near platinum hair sitting atop his head. 

When he bends down a little to wipe whatever bits of bleach drip down Billy’s neck, a few blonde strands fall in front of Lex’s eyes and Marcus wants to push them off his face but Petra has a hand in his hair and another on his shoulder and Marcus is fine where he is. 

When Lex moves to the sink to wash the bleach from his hands, Marcus can see the scribbles he drew on his skin last night. 

The Rats had been hanging out in Marcus’ room. It was otherwise empty since Shabnam, like most of the other students at King’s, had returned home for spring break.

Petra and Billy had found a place on Marcus’ bed with their preferred texts in hand: a gothic novel for Petra, a comic book for Billy. 

Perpetually hot-blooded, Lex had shed his shirt before laying on his stomach on the cool floor, a punk zine open in front of him. 

Marcus had nothing to read but found a permanent marker in his desk drawer. He laid perpendicular to Lex, his upper body draped over his back and his chin resting on his fist between Lex’s shoulder blades while he sketched with his right. 

Soft music drifted through the air from the shitty stereo against the wall. Lex’s pale skin bent under the felt tip of the marker as Marcus drew a pair of lips surrounded by lightning bolts of varying definition and lined shading.

It didn’t take long before his eyelids had grown heavy but Marcus had enough sense to cap the marker before dozing on Lex’s back. 

Thankfully none of them had to sleep on floor that night; somehow they had all managed to fit into Marcus’ bed. 

That was the rat in them, he guesses.

Lex spooned Marcus. Billy spooned Petra. Facing each other in the middle of the bed, Marcus and Petra intertwined their fingers. The music may have long since stopped but Marcus continued to murmur quietly against their knuckles until they fell asleep. 

They had spent most of today sleeping. 

A thunderstorm had rolled in sometime early morning and had been the perfect white noise to their laziness. Between the comforting sounds of rain against the window and the rumbling thunder, they woke multiple times but only long enough to shift their position, slide their hands across a hip or tangle their legs together before drifting back to sleep. 

On one such instance, Marcus had awoken to the feeling of Petra stroking his cheek gently. Her fingernails dragged gently up the side of his face to his hair.

“Your hair’s long,” she had murmured, voice still a little groggy with the disuse. 

Marcus hummed. “I know. Need a haircut.”

“We can do it tonight. Billy and Lex need to redye theirs anyway.”

Her hand remained in his hair. Outside, another crack of thunder sounded, waking Lex long enough for him to mumble incoherently against the back of Marcus’ neck and slide his hand from Marcus’ stomach to Petra’s waist. 

Together they dozed back to sleep.

The four of them officially got out of bed at four pm, had promptly gotten high and then trudged down to the cafeteria in socks and sweatpants to share a cold pizza the two remaining chefs had made at noon. 

Marcus sits in front of the sink in a folding chair taken from a closet down the hall. Petra uses her own hairbrush to comb through his wetted curls. 

Someone tries to open the bathroom door. 

“Go away,” they drone in unison. 

Thankfully, they do.

Petra sets the brush aside and picks up a pair of shears from the sink’s edge. 

“Ready?”

“Ready,” Marcus says.

Hair peppers his bare shoulders with every metallic snip. It’s a little itchy as it falls down his spine and his arms but he endures it because this is change and he’s always found himself in need of a little change. 

Billy dips his head under the sink. He emerges with a strip of yellow hair down the center of his head. 

“What?” he asks Marcus as he rubs his head with a stained towel. 

“Just never seen you blonde,” he says. “It looks good.”

“Well, don’t get used to it.”

Lex scoops green hair dye onto Billy’s hair from a dingy plastic tub. He runs his fingers through it with a clinical touch as he attempts to bathe every strand in green gloop.

“I got us tickets to another punk show on Friday,” Petra says off-handedly. 

Marcus’ eyes go wide. “Really!?”

“No, I’m lying.” Petra rolls her eyes. “Of course. After how much you enjoyed your first punk show, I think it would be a crime to not get you a ticket.”

Marcus’ first punk show had been fun. 

More than fun. Transcendent. 

The room was too small and the music was too loud and the beer was warm and it was so perfect.

He ended up rambling the entire way home about how amazing it was, how he felt at one with the entire universe, how nothing mattered but this moment right now.

Marcus kissed Billy on the cheek, wrapped his arms around Petra’s waist and spun her around before jumping on Lex’s back and insisting on a piggyback ride to anywhere but King’s.

“I don’t want the night to end,” Marcus said. “I don’t want this feeling to end just yet. I want the four of us to be together.”

“We always will be, dude,” Billy said and Marcus extended his hand to rest on Billy’s head affectionately. 

“Thanks for doing that, Petra,” Marcus says to her through the mirror. “I’ll pay you back for my ticket.”

Petra combs his hair, takes a look at it. “I’ve got it this time. But you buy mine the next.”

Marcus nods. Petra lightly smacks the side of his head. 

“Don’t move, idiot.”

Marcus smiles widely. “Sorry.”

Lex washes Billy’s hair in the sink. Marcus watches as emeralds swirl down the drain up until Petra guides his head down so she can trim the back of his neck.

“What’re we doing tonight?” Lex says. 

“Is it bad that I still don’t want to go out?” Billy says. 

“No,” Petra says with another snip. “It’s still raining and it’s already dark.”

“Movie night?” Marcus proposes. There’s a hum of consideration around him. “There’s a TV in the teacher’s lounge. Shabnam keeps his VHS collection under his bed.”

“I can go pick us up some burgers and fries,” Lex says as he strokes his fingers through Billy’s hair once more. 

“Not from the cafeteria, right?” Bill asks, sounding hopeful.

“Fuck no. From somewhere actually good.” 

“Where?”

“Wherever you want.”

Marcus wishes everyday could be like this; lazy, carefree. Spend all day in bed with the three people who have seen his soul and hold them until it’s time to smoke and eat and piss.

It’s borderline domestic. 

“All right, you’re done.” Petra steps back. “What do you think?”

Marcus looks in the mirror. 

His hair has been cut exceptionally well but that’s not what catches his attention; the sight of his friends standing around him, the sight of his own happiness reflecting in his eyes, the smile that feels permanently plastered to his face when he’s with them- that’s what has his full attention. 

Without them, this break would have been unbearable. Without them, he wouldn’t have been able to do any of this. 

“It’s perfect,” Marcus says and for once in his life, he finds that he truly means it.


End file.
